


Stray Thoughts

by comixologist



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash, Sexual Fantasy, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-07
Updated: 2010-11-07
Packaged: 2017-10-13 03:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/132080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comixologist/pseuds/comixologist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt wasn't trying to eavesdrop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stray Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notrafficlights](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=notrafficlights).



Mohinder delivered a hot cup of coffee to Matt's side without a word. Matt had been up all night reviewing case files from a truly grisly homicide, and he felt sick and sticky from work, frustrated that he couldn't put the puzzle together. Mohinder had been his late-night companion, sitting opposite him at the table analyzing blood samples and data charts that made absolutely no sense to Matthew. Still, he hadn't expected the coffee.

Matt had forgotten a long time ago what it was like to have a housemate that did little thoughtful things just for the hell of it - it had been ages since Janice knew when he wanted coffee or a kiss, even before the divorce. He muttered his thank-yous under his breath, already slurping the too-hot liquid when Mohinder tried to stifle his smile.

"You'll burn your tongue," Mohinder cautioned. "That would be a pity."

Matt hadn't been listening for thoughts then -- or at least, he hadn't thought he was -- but as Mohinder's lips wrapped around that last word, _pity_ , his mind was flooded with stray thoughts and images.

 _That tongue could be put to better use_ was an oddly coiling sentence, wrapping around a mental image of the Indian man with his hands in Matt's hair and his head thrown back. _So could mine_ was sharper, and a little jerky - the way the tip of that imagined tongue would be as it teased the tip of Matt's cock.

Matt could feel his face heating up as his vision swam with thoughts of Mohinder sliding into him or onto him, all delicate fingers and choked moans and strong thighs. He successfully swallowed his coffee.

Mohinder didn't seem to notice that the obscenity lurking in the back of his mind was broadcasting loud and clear. He just sat there, lips wrapped around the end of his pencap, scrawling some notation in Kannada. He glanced up, through thick lashes, eyes as warm and rich as the coffee that still burned the back of Matt's throat. Matt couldn't honestly say he'd witnessed many looks he could classify as "smoldering", but that one was hard to define as anything else.

Mohinder smiled. "You like it?"

"D-Do I ever," Matt stammered, before he realized that Mohinder was asking after the coffee.


End file.
